"Has the company been notified?" Theresa asked, realizing her cell phone had been left behind on the Vereshchagin. "I shall need to contact my supervisor to discuss this."

"Regrettably, our microwave phone line is down at the moment. A common problem in remote regions, as you can surely understand. Once the service is restored, you will of course be free to make any calls you like."

"Why are you locking us in our rooms like animals?"

"We have a number of sensitive research projects in development. I'm afraid we can't let outsiders go wandering around the facilities. We can give you a limited tour at the appropriate time."

"And if we wish to leave right now instead?" Theresa probed.

"A driver will take you to Ulaanbaatar, where you can catch a flight to your home." Borjin smiled, his sharp teeth glistening.

Still weary from the trip, Theresa didn't know what to think. Perhaps it was best not to test the waters just yet, she decided. "What is it that you would like us to do?"

Reams of folders were wheeled into the study along with several laptop computers, all chock-full of geological assessments and subsurface seismic profiles. Borjin's request was simple.

"We wish to expand drilling operations into a new geographical region. The ground studies are at your fingertips. Tell us where the optimal drilling locations would be." Saying nothing more, he turned his back and left the room, Tatiana tailing close behind.

"This is a load of bunk," Roy muttered, standing up.

"Actually, this looks like professionally gathered data," Wofford replied, holding up a subsurface isopach map, which portrayed the thickness of various underground sedimentary layers.

"I don't mean the data," Roy said, slamming a file down on the table.

"Easy, big fella," Wofford whispered, tilting his head toward the corner ceiling. "We're on Candid Camera."

Roy looked up and noticed a tiny video camera mounted beside the smiling stuffed head of a reindeer.

"Best we at least pretend to study the files," Wofford continued in a low voice, holding the map in front of his mouth as he spoke.

Roy sat down and pulled one of the laptops close, then slunk down in the chair so that the opened screen blocked his face.

"I don't like the looks of this. These people are warped. And let's not forget we were brought here at gunpoint."

"I agree," Theresa whispered. "The whole story about trying to protect us at Lake Baikal is ludicrous."

"As I recall, Tatiana threatened to blow my left ear off if I didn't leave the Vereshchagin with her,"

Wofford mused, tugging his earlobe. "Not the words of someone who cares about my well-being, I should think."

Theresa unfolded a topographical map of a mountain range and pointed out meaningless features to Wofford as she spoke.

"And what about Dr. Sarghov? He was taken captive with us by accident. I think they may have killed him."

"We don't know that, but it may be true," Roy said. "We have to assume the same outcome awaits us, after we have provided them the information they are looking for."

"It's all so crazy," Theresa said with a slight shake of her head. "But we've got to find a way out of here."

"The garage, next to the industrial building across the lawn. It was full of vehicles," Wofford said. "If we could steal a truck and drive out of here, I'm sure we could find our way to Ulaanbaatar."

"They've got us either locked in our rooms or under surveillance. We'll have to be prepared to make a break for it on short notice."

"Afraid I'm not up for any wind sprints or pole vaults," Wofford said, adjusting his injured leg. "You two will need to try without me."

"I've got an idea," Roy said, eyeing a desk across the room. Making a show of looking for a lost pen among the maps, he stood and walked to the desk, where he grabbed a pencil from a round leather holder. Turning his back to the video camera, he scooped out a silver metal letter opener that was mixed in with the pencils and slid it up his sleeve. Returning to the table, he pretended to write some notes while whispering to Theresa and Wofford.

"Tonight we'll check things out. I'll get Theresa and we'll reconnoiter the area and figure out an escape route. Then tomorrow night, we'll make our break. With the invalid in tow," he added, grinning at Wofford.

"I'd be much obliged," Wofford nodded. "Much obliged indeed."

-16-

Roy awoke promptly at two a.m. and dressed quickly. Removing the letter opener from its hiding place under his mattress, he groped his way across the darkened bedroom to the locked door. He felt along the doorframe, finding the raised edges of three metal hinges that protruded on the interior side.

Sliding the letter opener into the top hinge, he carefully pried out a long metal pin that held the interlocking hinge together. Removing the pins from the other two hinges, he gently lifted the door and pulled it into the room laterally as the exterior dead bolt popped out of the opposite doorframe. Roy then crept into the hallway and pulled the door back against the frame, so that upon a casual glance it still appeared closed and locked.

Finding the hallway empty, he tiptoed to Theresa's room next door. Unlocking the latch, he opened the door to find her sitting on the bed, waiting.

"You did it," she whispered, seeing his figure in the light from the hallway.

Roy flashed a thin smile, then nodded for her to follow. They crept into the corridor and moved slowly toward the main foyer. A row of low-wattage footlights provided muted lighting along the hallway, which by all sight and sound appeared completely deserted. Theresa's rubber-soled shoes began squeaking on the polished marble floor, so she stopped and removed them, continuing on in her stocking feet.

The foyer was brightly illuminated by a large crystal chandelier, which prompted Roy and Theresa to hug the walls and approach cautiously. Roy knelt down and scurried over to a narrow window, which fronted the main doorway. Peering outside, he turned to Theresa and shook his head. Despite the late hour, there was still a pair of guards stationed outside the front door. They would have to find another way out.

Standing in the foyer, they found themselves at the base of an inverted T. The guest rooms had been to the left and the occupant's private rooms were presumably to the right. So they crept instead down the wide main corridor that led to the study.

The house remained still but for an old grandfather clock ticking loudly in the hallway. They reached the study and kept moving, tiptoeing past the main dining hall and a pair of small conference rooms, all decorated with an impressive collection of Song and Jin dynasty antiques. Theresa scanned the ceilings searching for additional video camera monitors but saw nothing. A whispering sound played on her ears, and she instinctively clutched at Roy's arm until he winced in pain from her sharp fingernails. They both relaxed when they realized the sound was only the wind blowing outside.

The corridor ended in a large open sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. Though there was little to be seen at night, Theresa and Roy could still sense the dramatic view offered from the mountain perch, which overlooked the rolling steppes of the valley below. Near the entrance to the room, Roy spied a carpeted stairwell that ran to a lower level. He motioned toward the stairs and Theresa nodded, following him quietly. The thick carpet was a welcome relief to her feet, which were beginning to tire of the hard marble floor. As she reached a turn in the stairwell, she looked up to face a huge portrait of an ancient warrior. The man in the image sat tall on a horse wearing a fur-trimmed coat, orange sash, and the classic Mongol bowl helmet. He stared at her triumphantly through gold-black eyes. His mouth showed a wisp of a grin, exposing sharpened teeth that reminded her of Borjin. The intensity of the image made her shudder and she quickly turned her back on the painting and moved down the next set of steps.